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I want to happen upon a sleepy town with hollows and handwritten love letters Enchanted hamlets, ghostly sins and beasts on A place tucked away from reality where the clouds collect and my wildflowers grow under the moon. She's magic
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It's not the air in my lungs or the blood in my veins that sustains me, but the bones of unwritten poems slamming my soul and screaming to be unleashed onto you.
